


Myranda

by nanjcsy



Series: All Bolton Beasts [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Boot Worship, F/M, Human Hunting, M/M, Mindplay, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ramsay is his own warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This latest Season four preview has me rattled.  My thoughts are running wild with the images and Amethyst had a wonderful idea, that i should write it out!  So here it goes...let us hope this keeps me going until April!  The story is based on certain images from HBO.  Bloody, scratched Ramsay heading for Theon who is backpedaling in the kennels, and Myranda joining Ramsay on a hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Myranda

The first time Reek ever saw the pretty whore Myranda, she was with her friend Violet, both of them seeming so kind, then seductive.  In his starved, wrecked, agonizing exisitence, it was a salve, the one familiar comfort that had always been there for him, softness of females, but  he was tricked.  Reek blamed himself for being stupid, so stupid, Ramsay tells him all the time how his mind is very weak, its true.  Then the horn, Ramsay pulling out the knife and no, no, this is not something to think about,ever.  Concentrate on the mockery and twisted pleasure the whore seemed to get out of it.  Fueling anger and shame at her is better than thinking of what Ramsay did.  The monster.  That fucking monster.  Here comes the devil now, poor Reek cannot even move, still on the saltire, groin aching, piss burns out of him in fear and he whimpers, hating it, yet knowing he will do anything at all to please, just...please....

The kennel door opens and Reek scrambles into the furthest corner, looking like a pale, gaunt beast, torchlight dancing from the person's hand onto so many scars, bruises and lashes.  Wrapping his aching limbs around himself, he huddles, terrified, that letting him down was just another trick, please, if it is the Bastard Boys to hurt him and strap him back on the wood again for some fake defiance they will say..but it wasn't.  After a moment, he dared to look up and there she was again.  Myranda looked as lovely as she did the first time, the same angelic smile and large eyes that he never wanted to see looking at him again.  A wail escaped him and he shut his eyes tightly, wrapping his face in his thin arms.  She put the torch in a sconce and slowly approached the cringing creature, smiling gently, a false savior.  When she knelt next to him and gently touched the tears streaming down his face he started to frantically beg.  " _Please, no, do not touch me, I_ _know my_ _place now...I have no right to touch anything of His, ever, please stop!"_   Laughing softly, Myranda stopped touching him and spoke in a very kind voice, but he would not be fooled this time, oh no, he knew this game, he could win this one!  He will not lose another piece of himself over this whore!  

Smiling, Myranda pulls a small skin of water from her belt and tilts it towards the desperatly thirsty boy's face.  As he eagerly leaned forward, so thirsty, so grateful that Ramsay was sending him water, by whatever means, as he goes to open his mouth, she speaks.  _"Yes, Lord Ramsay was very clear.  This water is for Lord_ _Theon, see that he drinks all of it."_   Even as the despair started to wash over him, the terror helped him react quicker, as the water began to spill down, he threw himself to the ground, covering his mouth with his hands, shaking his head wildly.  Myranda held the skin rightside up and looked askance at him.  _"Lord Theon,_ _are you not thirsty? You really cannot go much longer without a drink of water.  Come here and drink, My Lord, I do not have all day."_

His voice was wracked with terror, so close that was, oh, he almost fell for this bitch, this whore again and the words were laced with the bitterness of it. _"No! It is_ _not for me! Reek! That is my name!  I know my name now, I will not forget my name!  Please go away, please, it is not my water."_ He could not hold his sobbing back, so thirsty, but what if he had not moved in time?  What would Ramsay have done to him for that?  _"No, I remember, My Lord, last time I saw you, Lord Ramsay told me then who you were. Lord Theon Greyjoy, don't you remember that?  Have you forgotten?  Just take a sip, you are so parched, your lips are bleeding, come now, it_ _could even be our secret.  Who cares about names when you have need of water that may not come again for many days?"_   Reek hated her voice, so convincing, so kind but he knew the eyes, the smirk, she may be hiding it, but the trick is in her every word and he wishes he could at least swallow but even the tears falling into his mouth were not enough for his hardening tongue. 

 _"Not my water.  I am Reek, Lord Ramsay told me so, I can only have water that is for Reek.  I will not fall for your tricks, I know you now, I know what you are, leave me be_!" he shrieked, a cracking sound, like something breaking, like someone breaking just a little more.  With a sigh, Myranda stood up and called out playfully, _"My Lord Ramsay, I lost the game.  The little freak actually won, he is more broken than I thought, so what must I pay for losing?"_   Reek moaned and turned white as Ramsay emerged from the shadows, he stepped over sleeping dogs and began to walk towards them.  _"We shall discuss the cost of losing later, my_ _love, for now I want to celebrate with Reek, for winning the game."_   Ramsay stood over his cringing creation, his predator gaze missing nothing, enjoying every mark, every shiver and he stiffened with lust at the unbriddled fear of his new plaything.  The large eyes were submissive, haunted and pleading, the body, so much frailer now, barely off the stones, cringing at his boots, filled his own eyes with evil intent, causing his chew toy to flinch and piss himself. 

 _"You may relax little Reek of mine.  You truly did well to remember who you are and your place and I shall give you a reward."_   Reek stayed very still, even when Ramsay suddenly crouched before him, he moves so fast, like a nightmare beast in a dream you cannot escape from ever, but no dream, his tormenter was so close.  That smile, the sharp teeth were in biting distance and Reek had the marks to know all about that, what if he bit his face?  He stayed still though, even if the cost was flesh torn by the sickle smile, because so much worse could happen and he must find a way to please Him.    Ramsay smiled wider, reading Reek's thoughts as he always can, eating every second of the terror, savoring the boy crumbling into a little broken pet as if it were the finest wine.  He reached his hand to Myranda for the water, then brought it to his Reek's lips, speaking softly, kindly to a small abused creature, _"I give you permission for a drink of water, my little_ _Reek.  Do not reject my reward, now drink."_ Searching His face for a trick, but too thirsty to resist it even if it were, Reek opens his lips, and oh, it is a blessing, it is everything to have his thirst quenched.  Sputtering, sucking, choking, it was the first pleasure he has ever felt in here. 

Ramsay allowed Reek half of the skin of water before putting it away.  _"You may show me how grateful you are for that water now."_ Standing back up and taking a few steps backwards, Ramsay says, _"Crawl to my boots, Reek."_ The voice was so soft and calm, still the false kindness that he knows will hurt him, trick him, but crawling will not hurt and anything, at all, to keep away the flaying knife.  Like a lowly beast of burden, a broken animal, Reek crawls foward, all awkward angles and the screaming silence of something, someone breaking.  When he huddled down before His boots, the silken, razor sharp voice sliced down his nerves.  _"You_ _will lick my boots clean.  Like a good little tamed animal, won't you?"_   Nodding, Reek began to carefully lick until there was no muck, only the saliva that had been fueled by the water, now transferred from Reek's mouth, back to Ramsay again.  Only when the boots were spotless, shined and the sound of Reek's tongue was audiably rough did Ramsay order him to stop.  

 _"Very good, you are finally learning to behave, to obey, perhaps you can learn to be a grateful little slave and I will not be forced to throw you back into the_ _dungeons."_   Reek tried to speak past his horridly dry mouth, the taste of dirt and leather thick, but even if he had saliva left, he would never have dared to spit it out.  _"Please, I want to obey, to serve, I just want to please you, I am your Reek."_ His voice became a cracked whimper, the thought of the bloody saltire, the darkness, biting rats that were biting him, he could only whimper, it was too much, and there would be no correct response to any of Ramsay's whims.  Cutting through the desperate whine was that other voice, he had forgotten in his terror, that the whore was watching again, watching him suffer.  _"My Lord Ramsay, your_ _little animal has become so well behaved!  You are truly an artist, My Lord, I am fascinated at your work with him, may we take him for a walk out doors, like walking_ _a dog?"_   Ramsay chuckled. _"What a wonderful idea, he does need to get some fresh air, doesn't he?"_

As Myranda's cruel laughter cut into him, Reek knelt frozen, trying so hard to behave, as Ramsay attached a leash to his collar.  _"Crawl, little bitch, show me that you_ _want to be my devoted little pet."_ Amusement lazily intertwined with deadly warning, and Reek crawled at his Master's side, paying close attention as they left the kennel.  He kept his eyes on the boots, made sure the leash never had to pull, that might anger Ramsay, it was unthinkable.  Never mind the rocks scratching into his hands and knees, the ground was unforgiving and still they walked onward, voices above him laughing, speaking of nothing, while Reek left trails of blood behind him as they entered the woods.  He was so afraid now, it was not just a walk, this was another torture for him, he was so stupid, because they would not stop walking and he had barely any flesh left on his hands and knees, now.  Every move was agony, he could no longer hide his pain, sobbing, whining, but never daring to plead to stop, he knew that trick, but it did not matter, he was going to fall soon.  

Mercifully, Ramsay stopped and Reek huddled in his blood, misery keening in his throat, so grateful to rest and so afraid of the next game.  _"You may lay down and_ _rest for a little bit, my pet.  I am pleased with you."_ Whether this was a trick or not, Reek collapsed to the ground and sobbed in relief.  _"Thank you, My Lord, I am_ _grateful."_ As he lay panting, muscles spasming, he remembered the rules, no matter what  he remembers rules now and so he keeps his eyes upon Ramsay.  Without emotion, just with the small joy of knowing the attentions are not on him, he watched as Lord Ramsay took Myranda roughly against a tree.  They kissed and she did not seem to mind the biting, the blood, he wondered if it was real or if she just knew better than to object.  After a minute, Ramsay shoved her away and made ready his bow and arrow.  _"Now, I wonder what creatures we shall hunt today?"_ he says before giving a shrill whistle, that after a moment was answered by approaching, barking dogs and thundering hoofs, his hunting companions, bitches and Boys.

 _"I have an idea, My Lord!"_ Myranda's voice was filled with sadistic excitment.  _"Oh please, Lord Ramsay, can we hunt your Reek?  It would be so fun, he is so funny_ _when he panics, I like to watch the little freak run."_ Here is the final trick.  Reek knew it was coming, and here it was, no matter how hard he had tried, so stupid.  _"That is something that you would like, you can run free for a little while, my pet...go on, let us have a hunting game!"_ As Ramsay's words fell like a damnation, Reek crawled forward to the boots, to worship, to beg, to cringe.  _"Master, I will be good, I will behave, please do not hunt me!  I swear I will_ _be a good little bitch, please,_ _My Lord!"_ he cried, groveling, frantically kissing His boots, every movement taut with despair.  A fist grabbed his hair and yanked upwards, he stared up into such cold, feral eyes that he began to heave in fear for a moment.  _"Little Reek, this is not for being bad.  Like all good bitches you should get a proper running about,_ _even weaklings like you must be able to have some fortitude.  Besides, you are not a hunting bitch, are you?  No, you are a little pet, prey not hunter, so be prey and run for me.  Do not fear, I would never allow my dogs to kill you, nor would I ever skin you to the point of death, you amuse me too much.  Now run.  Or do you dare to displease me?"_

No choice, none at all and there was no other response but to start crawling away as fast as he could, to be hunted, at His whim.  Ugly laughter, then Ramsay's taunting voice. _"Oh Reek, you pathetic little fool!  You need to stand and run, otherwise the dogs will reach you in moments and I will be bored again.  You must_ _truly try and escape us, do not dissapoint me!"_ Moaning, Reek lunged to his feet, such a strange feeling after so long, he ran on unfamiliar legs, with toes broken or lost, he was not much faster than when he crawled and he cried, knowing Ramsay will not get the challenge he wants.  Then again, they knew that, Myranda and Ramsay were laughing as the dogs came closer, the game was ending, Reek was losing again, this time under a pile of fur, claws and half hearted bites from his only friends.  As the dogs lunged around him, nudging him to play, he looked up at Ramsay, helpless, waiting for the pain failure brings.  In a voice heavy with disdain, Ramsay orders Ben to return Reek to the kennels, assuring Reek that he will speak with him about being displeasing later.  Begging forgivness in between sobs, Reek crawls obediently next to Ben, recieving a kick from Him on the way past the boots, covered in filth again. 

Over his sobs and the sounds of something, someone breaking, he could hear the taunts of the Bastard Boys, then Ramsay's voice. _"Myranda, this was a poor idea_ _on your part.  That and you have lost the game earlier, I am not as amused by you anymore, so I think you better start running, dear.  I give you thirty minutes to be fair, so run, whore."_ The wails, pleadings, screams then the barking meant little to Reek, a small mercy knowing she was paying for being a lesser monster, but he still cared more that he angered Ramsay.  He had promised to be good, to obey and please, he broke his word, ferverently he hoped that Ramsay would enjoy his hunt enough that he forgets about Reek or at least is sweeter tempered for the violent sport.  Reek knew better than to hope, that word was forbidden, like that other name was.  For some time, he lay in his dirty straw pile, in the kennels, it was silent, peaceful even, except his mind was churning and deafened him with every threat Ramsay ever uttered. 

His wish that the hunt would soothe Ramsay's wrath soured when through the kennel door, came the nightmare, the monster, dripping, bloody scratches, panting with adrenaline, lust, sadism, every inch the predator, here was the hunter and Reek had always been the prey.  Reek scrambled backwards, until his head and back struck the wall, staring up at Him.  Without a pause, Ramsay came forward, stalking, mouth partially open, eyes narrowed, wild still, so deadly and Reek did not move, froze like the helpless creature he was now, too afraid to even beg.  _"Reek, you cost me a whore today. You also proved that you are too pathetic to even_ _amuse me during a hunt, too weak, too useless, so I guess you will have to take the place of my whore as well.  So do you know what that means? It means more_ _training, but I will take all the time needed to turn you into just what I want."_ Ramsay's shadow fell over Reek, but before the pain could start, before Ramsay ate him alive, he saw that only Ramsay ever really won a game.  The last thought was of how Myranda would never trick him again, before Reek fell under the full will of Ramsay and heard nothing but the sound of something, someone breaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of my version of the images of Myranda, Ramsay and Reek. I really let my imagination wander off..


End file.
